


A Woman Scorned

by Lethe (PersephonePenguin)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephonePenguin/pseuds/Lethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rumpelstiltskin banishes Belle, she exacts an effective revenge. This leads to a feud  between the two of them that is made all the more complicated by the fact that their hearts haven't realised that they are at war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foolhardy

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! This story is all typed up and just needs editing, which I will do as we go along. I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it. 
> 
> It's unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine, squint and pass over them please!

Belle had heard the frantic whispers of frightened peasants (as she made her way from town to town) that the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin, was in a towering rage. He was not a man to offer pity or compassion at the best of times, but the latest rumours of his dreadful bargains were shocking even the most hardened of gossips.

Belle, having been cruelly rejected by the man only a month ago, smirked. She, of course, felt pity for the poor wretches who were suffering Rumpelstiltskin's ill humour but really, one did not bargain with the renowned sorcerer without expecting some unpleasantness. She, herself, had not expected anything approaching kindness, but then neither had she anticipated that she could fall in love with him. Fate had a strange way of surprising her.

Belle was experiencing the novel sensation of enjoying a petty revenge. She had offered him her love and her heart freely--and with it, True Love's kiss to break whatever curse he was under. She absolved him the insult of disbelieving in her good intentions, she even forgave him her banishment from his castle...what had _stung_ her was his assertion that his power meant more to him than she did.

Rumpelstiltskin never lied and that really, _really_ ached.

Belle LeFay, high born gentlewoman, had offered a monster the most valuable thing she had that was hers to give and it was not deemed _worthy_ by an imp who did not even brush his teeth.

Ordinarily she was not guilty of pride, but some insults are not meant to be swallowed. She had therefore, exacted her revenge before she left the Dark Castle. Rumpelstiltskin had gotten careless in the last few months, trusting her to clean his inner sanctum without thinking that she might poke around. 

Well. That was _his_ mistake. It was a simple matter to ascertain that the item in the silver locked chest was of great value to him and when he had sent her to get her cloak before leaving, it was not hard to force the lock in order to open it.

He’d catch up with her eventually. She knew he was looking, it was the same old story in every town. Rumpelstiltskin wanted a woman, they’d whisper darkly, pitying the poor wench. He’d even gone so far as to put up wanted posters with her likeness on them. The price, last time she cared to check, was five hundred gold pieces if she was returned to him alive.

Having slept under the stars for a few nights, she had amused herself with the thought that she could turn herself in and collect the promised reward. She had a good use for it. Her cloak had seen better days for starters and what _wouldn't_ her poor aching feet give for a horse?

Rumpelstiltskin underestimated the power of a beautiful, weeping woman who spun a sad tale, over a soft hearted inn-keeper or huntsman. The huntsman had unfortunately turned out to be a cad, but proved useful in hiding her for a night as Rumpelstiltskin whipped through the town. That had been a close call. She had rather thought the huntsman might turn her in for the money, after she'd had to take drastic action with a candlestick to stop his unwanted advances. Fortunately, he had been out cold by the time the Dark One had passed his hut.

Belle made her way, basket over her arm through a forest glade. She was happy enough, she did not dare go home to her father and as such was experiencing the first true freedom she had ever known. There were no expectations of her, here in this green place. The tall trees did not care for her status or her beautiful face, they would shelter her from a gentle rain regardless of what political clout she wielded. It was refreshing.

She heard the crunch of twigs behind her and turned sharply. There, sitting on a stump, with a knee brought up beneath his chin was her former master. He looked surprised that she did not look alarmed and subsequently shocked when she curtsied, mockingly.

‘Rumpelstiltskin. I do not recall summoning you since you ended our contract. What brings you?’ A touch of lofty frost edged her civil words. He’d be a fool if he couldn’t see that she was still seething.

His eyes were dark, she fancied she could see his magic reaching out from him, desperate to throttle her. Clearly, he had expected her to launch herself into his arms and plead for his favour or some such rot. She _scorned_ to so demean herself.

‘I need no invitation from a _thief_ , madam. I will always retake what is stolen from me, you will find the consequences of crossing me are _fatal.’_

Death threats? He wasn’t helping to mend her wounded pride. 

‘Stolen, Rumpelstiltskin? _I?’_ She raised her chin. ‘I am a wealthy woman, I need no trinkets from your castle. I have taken nothing from your home.’ Belle smiled, too sweetly, as she tried not to look at him longingly. ‘But if you have mislaid something, perhaps I can be of assistance? What is it that you have _lost?’_

He strode over to her and seized her throat in his hand. He was not gentle about it. Perhaps she could teach herself to hate him if he continued like this. Love and hate were not so very far from each other after all. It might be easier to loathe him. Feeling the pinch of her airways between his fingertip and thumb, she rather thought she’d manage it.

He sneered. ‘I have _lost_ nothing. _You_ have stolen from me. Tell me where it is!’ He brought her closer to him to whisper in her ear. ‘I’ll be merciful if you tell me now, dearie. A nice quick death, I shan’t drag it out a moment longer than necessary. _Just tell me._ ’ his voice was dark and velvet. He was so close to her that she smelled the sweet scent of clove on his breath. She had always loved cloves.

‘Release me.’ She hissed it, angry that even now she had to fight her own heart as well as the empty hearted man in front of her. ‘I repeat, I have _stolen_ nothing from you. You have no business with me, begone!’ She hoped bravery would follow her words soon, because the fear was threatening to overwhelm her.

Rumpelstiltskin, his grizzled hair blowing about his head in a cyclone of his own fury squeezed her throat tighter.

‘I could kill you slowly, dearie. Every single moment of teetering on the brink of oblivion could be extended to long, agonizing minutes.’ He spoke softly, like a lover. ‘Why don’t you tell me where it is?’

It was getting hard to breathe. ‘You’ll never find it if you kill me, Dark One.’ She gasped out the words.

He dropped her and Belle crumpled in a heap before him, rubbing her poor throat. 

‘Finally. You are exposed as the little liar you are. Professing to love me, trying to make me weak like every other snivelling little man you have had sniffing around your skirts. All so you could command my power.’ He sneered, triumphant. ‘You failed, wench. I’ve no more use for your charms than any other wench I have had in my castle.’

Belle did not bother to protest that she was not a liar, nor a thief. She felt a moment of triumph that anger was making him loose with his tongue, she had not known that he was capable of being commanded. An epiphany struck her, that through his horrible words, he was trying to hurt her, to make her weep. She’d not give him the satisfaction. Belle LeFay was made of sterner stuff than _that._

She would best the beast at his own game.

‘You’ve plenty of use for a wench who knows where your dagger is hidden, Rumpelstiltskin. You cannot kill me if you ever wish to find it again.’

He opened his mouth, ready no doubt, to issue dire threats of punishment, and then shut it again. Something akin to respect crept into his stony face. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t annihilate her at the first opportunity, but at least he might leave off with the jibes and name calling.

‘State your terms, my lady.’ The mockery and contempt in his tone made her want to hit him. She almost preferred ‘wench’, as that at least had not been uttered with such derision. She had only wanted to pierce his iron will, to perhaps make him come to her since he had banished her from his company. She had not intended to make him hate her.

Belle shrugged inwardly, it was safer to have this man as a known enemy than a scheming lover. ‘I want your solemn oath that _if_ I reveal where your dagger is, that you will cause no harm to me or mine. That you will let me go freely about the world, unhindered by your overdeveloped sense of revenge. You will not interfere in my marriage nor will you attempt to hurt any future children I may have. You will also abstain from using your magic for the month following your agreement.’

His eyes, which had been fixed on her face, glinted with malice as he took in her calm expression when she spoke of a future marriage. 

‘That’s certainly a tall order. I’m hurt dearie, that you would want to marry another, after declaring that I must be your _true love._ After kissing a monster. What can _possibly_ have changed your mind?’

 _Sarcasm,_ such a peasant-ish form of wit. 

Belle kept her expression carefully blank. ‘You overrate your charms, Rumpelstiltskin. You are not the only man I have recently kissed. I retract any previous declarations of love. Rest assured, any foolish feeling of passion I may have had for you, ended as soon as I had my freedom back.’

She had thought he had been as angry as it was possible to get. Apparently she had miscalculated. He flicked a hand and the towering trees surrounding them burst into flame. 

‘ _Give me his name._ ’ He did not shout or bellow the command, but he might as well have done for all the power it contained. This man, however dangerous he might be in the face of her betrayal, was now in the grip of a mad fury that would not abate with her promised death.? The flames cast an eerie, flickering light upon Rumpelstiltskin's already unnatural countenance.

Belle fought the impulse to submit to him. ‘You have already assured me that I will die. Why would I reveal the name of my lover? You have no care for me, why the jealousy then? You are _ridiculous_.’ She poured scorn into the word.

‘I know how to keep what is _mine_.’

Interesting. He had no use for her love, but neither would he permit her to be with another man. ‘Apparently not, as you are currently missing a certain dagger! Really, Rumpelstiltskin, you must be losing your touch.’ 

The burning trees froze solid without him flicking so much as a gnarled finger. 

Belle looked impressed. ‘That’s very clever Rumpelstiltskin. Quite pretty. Unfortunately, your childish fit of temper does not help you find your little knife, does it? I’ll make this straightforward. I have hidden it. You will never find it without my aid which I shall not give you unless you agree to my terms.’

He snarled at her and furiously whipped his arms upwards in the air. Belle felt a heavy pressure descend on her from her feet to her head and in the next moment was ensconced in the dungeon, deep within the Dark Castle. Rumpelstiltskin peered at her through the bars.

‘You have overestimated your wit my dear, if you think you can best me!’ He giggled. ‘You do not currently hold the dagger and you cannot _dictate_ to me without it, whatever you may have been told. All you have guaranteed with your little stunt, is that you remain alive. I assure you, I can make it a very _miserable_ existence for you indeed. You will soon be _begging_ me to kill you.’ She heard his footsteps lightly skipping away and gritted her teeth for endurance.

Not _quite_ what she had in mind for getting him to bring her back to the Dark Castle.


	2. Bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who left such encouraging comments on the first chapter, it makes me alot less wobbly about sharing my writing.

Rumpelstiltskin looked sourly on as Regina swept into his dining room, her black skirts billowing out behind her and her head held regally high. He’d had quite enough of the arrogant airs and graces of the upper classes for one day.

Belle had surprised him this morning, she was a queenly creature when she was angry. Previously, he’d never heard anything more than a gentle reproach from her and had rather thought that she hadn’t the backbone for a vicious war of words. Obviously, being tossed out of his castle for being a brazen little liar had got her blood up. If he wasn’t so dangerously close to hurt at her betrayal, he’d admit that she was really rather beautiful when her spine was ramrod straight and her eyes flashed her ire at him.

 _True Loves Kiss,_ indeed. _Break the curse!_ The foolish girl had revealed her hand too soon. Nothing could have made it more obvious that she was in collusion with the Queen than that. He’d nearly fallen for it too. The oldest trick in the book, a woman's wiles, and he’d nearly been caught! It must have been her innocent blue eyes and sweet smile. He was clearly getting old, he’d _wanted_ to believe she loved him.

He’d thrown her out and was roaming the castle, trying very hard to enjoy the solitude and doing his best not to hope that he was wrong, when he had decided that a reminder _why_ his power was important was in order. He drifted up to his sanctuary, trying to repress his faint smile at the brightly polished door handle that signified his little housekeeper had been hard at work there.

When he had entered the windowless room, only to find that the lock on his engraved silver chest had been forced-- he'd staggered back with the force of shock. Knowing, even as he lifted the lid, that his dagger would not be nestled safely on the purple velvet cushion. Anxiety gripped at his chest.

He had been so _sure_ that she was trustworthy. Even after she tried to take his power from him, he did not think that she would do _this._ How had she known? He had kept the existence of the dagger a closely guarded secret, no one knew!

Belle had taken it. He’d fallen for her, hook line and sinker, and she’d played him masterfully. Rumpelstiltskin slumped down on the floor and tried to work out what to do.

He had to find Belle, that much was clear. If necessary he’d resort to paying the price for a location spell. If she had the dagger in her hands, he was doomed--it meant she knew what power it had over him. If she had it on her person, a direct attack would be necessary and hopefully, by the time he found her, he would be able to find pleasure in driving the light from her deceiving eyes. The real difficulty would come if she had hidden it, that would cause something of a stalemate--he could not simply kill her, he needed to know what the girl had done with it.

When he had found her, he had not wanted his heart to jolt in his chest or his head to swim with happiness. He allowed himself precisely one minute to drink her peaceful loveliness in before calling her attention with a snapped twig. 

He braced himself for feminine flutterings and piteous declarations of affection. His anger rose in disappointment when neither came. Icy indifference was an enemy he had not thought to encounter in Belle and he found that his disobedient heart did not care for it.

It was easier to quell his leaping heart when she greeted him with disdainful hostility. It made her more like every other puffed up noble he had outwitted, he would defeat her also--without so much as a qualm.

He heard her poisoned words, accusing him of having _lost_ the dagger, as though the lock had not been wilfully forced, and strode forward, seizing her lovely neck. He had not thought beyond frightening her into giving him what he wanted, hoping she might show her fear and that her horrible, unnaturally calm facade might break.

Once his hands touched her skin, he realised his mistake. It was like having warm silk beneath his fingertips and he strained against his desire to gentle his touch and caress it in approval rather than threaten her. She had no right to be all smooth and soft when she was guilty of such treachery, a man could surrender his will for the privilege of a mere whispering touch of her skin. Rumpelstiltskin felt his danger and was glad that he was no longer a man. He overcompensated and tightened his grip. The Dark One promised her a quick, easy death if she told him where his dagger was. He was a liar. He wouldn’t kill her, couldn’t. His hands wanted to make her whimper and hiss, not from hurt--but from pleasure. 

Rumpelstiltskin _loathed_ feeling powerless, and he was feeling doubly so on account of this blue eyed traitor before him. She had the advantage over him, both on account of his dagger and that his own mind baulked at the thought of ending her.

‘You’ll never find it if you kill me, Dark One.’

She’d never called him that before. It was always Rumpelstiltskin or Sir. Usually in a measured, lilting voice. Her voice wasn’t lilting now, it sounded raw and breathy. He looked and saw deep, brutal red marks beneath his fingers on the creamy skin of her throat. He’d been gripping too hard. He was a monster. Her perfect skin would be marred by bruising of his own making.

He released her abruptly, trying not to feel dismayed that he’d hurt her. Rumpelstiltskin was fighting to remember that this woman, with the face of an angel, had willfully enticed and betrayed him. He looked down and saw her rubbing her neck and exploded in anger.

‘Finally. You are exposed as the little liar you are. Professing to love _me,_ trying to make me weak like every other snivelling little man you have had sniffing around your skirts. All so you could command my power. You failed, wench. I’ve no more use for your charms than any other woman I have had in my castle.’

He felt a brief flicker of pride in her at her response to that. She was a canny one. She’d have made a fine wife to a deal maker if only she could be trusted. Not quite as accomplished in the art of subtlety as he was though. To be fair to the lady, he did have several centuries head start. When she made her demands Rumpelstiltskin was both impressed at her cool delivery and desirous of melting the ice princess. She was clinging to her pride, eh? He’d soon humble her.

He taunted her with the memory of their kiss, wanting to see her face flushed with embarrassment. He was not pleased with her reply.

‘You overrate your charms, Rumpelstiltskin. You are not the only man I have recently kissed. I retract any previous declarations of love. Rest assured, any foolish feeling of passion I may have had for you, ended as soon as I had my freedom back.’

He needed an outlet for the rage that consumed him. Until that moment, he hadn’t known how he had been clinging on to the hope that in spite of her being a duplicitous wretch, she had _meant_ that kiss. He didn’t want to damage her again, however much he wished otherwise, so he firebombed the trees around them. They were far too tall anyhow. 

The one who had kissed Belle LeFay, after Rumpelstiltskin had claimed her mouth was a dead man. He’d murder him, slowly and painfully--the way he could not bring himself to end Belle.

After more magic and another exchange of words, which both flung skillfully at each other, Rumpelstiltskin grew impatient. They were at an impasse. Belle was not backing down. She was not even attempting to negotiate. He decided that the best thing to do would be to imprison her and attempt to break her will that way. She was a free spirited little bird, it made little sense that she’d given up her liberty of her own account, high born ladies so rarely did. He transported them back home to the Dark Castle, without warning, and retreated from the battlefield, in order to think.

He’d been brooding at his wheel, doing nothing _but_ thinking ever since and when Regina waltzed in, he found himself snarling at her that he was not open for business that day.

‘Oh come now Rumpel! Surely you don’t mean to send me off without even offering me tea. I have come so far.’ She smiled engagingly at him, or at least tried to-- he didn’t feel particularly engaged by it. He wanted to throw something at the conniving bitch. Still, she was a persistent little biddy, and she wouldn’t leave until she had said what she wanted so he gestured to the table upon which a tea tray had appeared. He toyed with the idea of sending some to Belle.

Regina poured herself a cup, not the chipped one he was pleased to note, he might have sent a nasty hex her way if she had. Possibly something that turned her hair grey, he mused. 

‘Now Rumpel, I need you to craft me curse. You’ll make a deal with me won’t you?’ 

Bowing slightly he replied. ‘I am your Majesty's humble servant.’ Sarcasm really got on her nerves and he was powerful enough to annoy her merely for the fun of it. He always stopped short of actually enraging her, she was a tricky enemy to have and it’d take an awful lot of energy to destroy her permanently. Her spiteful little antics proved amusing sometimes so he tolerated her, so long as she didn’t become too uppity. He wondered how Belle had come to work for a woman so different to herself, she must not know how deeply Regina's bitterness ran. She'd be awfully disappointed when she was disillusioned. Not that he cared. 

Rumpelstiltskin listened to Regina, not from any desire to end the world as they knew it, but because as she spoke a plot was hatching in his mind. Belle would give him his dagger back. He’d agree to her Majesty’s ridiculous plan, drop it into conversation with his lovely prisoner and taunt her that he was going to help the madwoman end the world. Unless she held the dagger in her hands, she could not stop him. He’d Belle out of her cell, profess to wanting to oblige her, to save her loved ones and she would lead him straight to his dagger. She’d fall into his arms in gratitude and beg for his forgiveness. He would make a deal with her that would leave her in his power for the rest of her life and do so without giving up any of his dignity.

Rumpelstiltskin steepled his fingers together and smiled diabolically. His mood was decidedly improved. He was going to enjoy this. The little lady had put up a good, laudable fight which made the scent of victory even sweeter. He hoped she was a gracious loser, because she was going to lose _everything_ to him by the time they were done.

He’d have his cake and eat it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same rules apply...
> 
> If you did, then please do. If you didn't then don't. 
> 
> :-)


	3. Cowardly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for your kind, encouraging comments. Also, thank you for the tumblr recs!! I joined up but have had such a horrible week in RL, that I haven't yet had a proper look. :-)

The next morning, as the sun rose in its graceful arc above the castle, Rumpelstiltskin unlocked the heavy door of Belle’s cell. He was suspicious to note that she was not curled up on the iron bed in the corner. There wasn’t much by way of comfort in the cell and a normal person would take what softness they could. The grubby flagstones were certainly not the most welcoming.

He could not see her through the doorway and presumed that she must be using the chamberpot that was, for modesty’s sake, tucked against the wall nearest the door. He listened, but could hear no sound. It was impossible that she had escaped and the door was loud enough that she must know he was there, so what was she playing at?

He stepped into the room and felt her break the chamberpot clean over his head. The warm sensation of liquid travelling down his neck only added insult to injury and when he regained conciousness some moments later, he hoped, as she fled down the corridor, that she was headed to the armory. She’d need to be armed to the teeth.

He caught up with her, after picking the splinters of porcelain out of his scalp and performing a quick cleansing spell, in the dining room of the castle. She was clutching a spindle that she had snapped off his spinning wheel. Spiteful little cat.

He stalked into the centre of the room. He was Rumpelstiltskin, in his castle, he did not skulk in corners. He was the most powerful sorcerer the Enchanted Forest had ever seen and here he was facing a decidedly short female who was far, far too brave for her own good. One might almost say foolhardy.

‘If you come one step near me, Rumpelstiltskin. I’ll smash the rest of it to pieces.’ The spindle she held shook in her hand and her voice was raw. Her throat was a mottled blur of purples and blacks and in an instant he felt the worst of his rage ebb away. He hadn’t meant to do her such harm. She was frightened. Terrified even. That much was clear. A night in the dungeons must have reminded her why it was a bad idea to antagonize the Dark One. Yet here she was, facing up to him with a stake of wood as if it would lend her any decent defence against his magic. 

He remembered a time when he’d wished he had such an abundance of bravery, especially in the face of a fearsome enemy.

‘You smashed a pot of _piss_ over my head, woman.’ He said it mildly, he really couldn’t believe she had done so. ‘Do you really expect to live after such an insult?’

‘No.’ She said simply. She looked so tired. Defeated, almost. Poor, Brave little Belle had been strong for so long. 

‘Well,’ He drawled. ‘You are _going_ to.’ He enjoyed the look of disbelief on her face and she dropped the length of turned wood in shock. ‘Care to renegotiate, dearie?’

‘Wh-what? _why?!_ ’

‘It occurs to me that it might be more beneficial to keep you alive, _for now._ ’

She said nothing, only swaying on her feet and he gestured to the table where breakfast was laid out. Belle, quite rightly wary, slowly made her way to the chair and sat down.

He let her eat her fill, busying himself with a bread roll and tea, before reopening the conversation.

“I had a visitor last evening, dearie.’

She reached for her teacup, throwing a contemptuous glance that indicated quite clearly that she didn’t care. He infinitely preferred Belle the way she was before, all graciousness and kind words--not this barely restrained shrew who smashed things over his head and was determined to drive him mad. He hadn’t asked her to kiss him, had he? He never said a word about _love_ or affection. No. He’d have been quite content to admire her from afar for all eternity. Mostly. 

Rumpelstiltskin wished he could go back to how things were, or at least how he’d thought they were. Before she turned spy for The Queen, that is.

‘Her Majesty, the Queen came looking to make a deal. You’d know all about working with her wouldn’t you, dearie?’ He idly played with his chipped tea cup, tracing the delicate rim with his forefinger. ‘She wants me to craft a curse for her. Effectively ending the world as we know it and putting all of the poor inhabitants of our fair land under her power.’

Ah. A flicker of interest in those icy blue orbs. 

‘Well, Sir. What did you say?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ He grinned nastily. Happy to deny her curiosity after having worked so hard to arouse it.

Belle sent him a withering look. ‘ _Yes_. Of course I’d like to know if you are going to help the evil Queen ruin the lives of everyone. It’s not just idle interest.’

‘I said yes. Of course. I have no reason not to, do I? And she’ll make it worth my while, oh yes.’

Belle sat bolt upright in her chair. Her fatigue apparently forgotten. ‘Rumpelstiltskin! You must not. _Please._ Oh you must have _some_ human compassion in you!’

‘Apparently not.’ He shrugged.

Belle got up from her chair abruptly and stalked from the room. He rose and followed her casually. Rumpelstiltskin knew what she would do, he had to admit though, that he was burning to find out _how_ she would go about it. His brow furrowed as he followed her to the kitchens and for a moment, he thought that she might just be about to make herself some more food, rather than ask him to provide it.

He pushed away the thought that it would be a pleasure to provide everything for her.

As she reached into the back of the little bread oven, beside the fireplace, Rumpelstiltskin’s jaw dropped slightly.

She had not stolen the dagger. She had merely moved it. That raised more questions than it answered. She held it up in her little hands and turned to look at him. Her eyes filled with tears and her hands shook.

‘Rumpelstiltskin. I _command_ you to destroy the Queen. She must not hurt any more innocent people.’

Magic hummed in the air, powerful, seductive and heady. He all but dismissed it when faced with the possibility that Lady Belle _wasn't_ a traitor and that she hadn't been working for Regina.

Which meant that her confession of love was entirely her own.

He felt the pull of old magic, constraining him. Making him _want_ to do her bidding. He nodded once. He’d rather thought he’d get more time to get the thing off her before she started issuing orders, she did look decidedly uncomfortable though, maybe she wasn’t enjoying the sensation of being the most powerful being in the world. How odd.

Rumpelstiltskin swept from the room, pausing to shrug on his coat. Belle followed him from room to room until they stood before the great door of the castle.

Knowing that he was to embark on a difficult fight, Rumpelstiltskin, who had not said a word to her since she issued her order, turned to Belle and spoke. ‘I may be some time, my Lady. Keep that dagger with you at all times and don’t let anyone in. Stay indoors. I may have been labouring under a misapprehension about you, dearie. We’ll talk when I return.'

With that, he marched through the doors.

It took him the better part of a day to locate and engage Regina. He wasn’t too noble to gain an audience by pretending that he wished to discuss the particulars of their deal, after that it was a simple case of launching an attack.

The Queen did not go quietly. He thought grimly.She did not even go with much dignity. She died, a screaming warrior woman, trying to gouge his eyes out with her fingernails. He left her body strewn at the foot of the dias in the throne room, he thought it fitting. She had, after all, been a worthy adversary. He was fairly sure his knee would never be the same again.

When he returned to the Dark Castle, he found Belle sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, staring at the front door. She was clutching the dagger in her hands. Obedient girl. She gasped when she saw the liberal amounts of blood on his clothing and he refrained from snapping at her that he had been acting under her orders. Her face was white and her eyes red rimmed. Coupled with the bruising on her throat she did not, at that moment, quite live up to her name. 

‘Tell me the truth, Rumpelstiltskin. If I give you orders now and then hand back your dagger, will you still be bound to them once you are free?’

‘No.’

She considered this. ‘Is the Queen dead?’

‘You need ask? Yes, she is dead. She will trouble you no more.’

‘Thank you, then. I hope you weren’t too grievously injured in the battle.’

He bowed. ‘Nothing that can’t be fixed, my Lady.’ He waved his hand and felt the drying blood vanish, his broken rib re-knit and his eye stopped feeling quite so sore. His leg ached, but that would teach him to be cautious about approaching an injured banshee who held a unicorn horn in her hand. He looked at Belle, still sitting on the step, and went to sit by her. ‘ _Are_ you going to give me my dagger back?’

‘No, yes. Oh I don’t _know_. I was going to, but I don’t trust you to not come after me unless you are constrained not to by magic.’

‘You are probably wise.’ He murmured. ‘I don’t suppose my word of honour would count would it? I never lie.’

‘No, you don’t do you?’ Was all she said. Sadly. She heaved a great sigh. ‘Very well, Rumpelstiltskin. If you will promise me that you will not come after me, that you will do me and my loved ones no harm, then I will hand you back your dagger. I really don’t wish to keep it anyhow.’

‘No deal.’ he hissed.

‘You are so desirous of revenge?’ She sounded resigned.

‘I’ll swear not to harm you, Belle. I don’t think I could keep to an oath that kept you away from me. I’d watch you from a distance, wishing you’d let me near you. I’d be happy enough just watching you at first and then it would eat at me. The day you might meet another man would destroy all my good intentions. He’d be hanging from his own chimney stack before he could even touch your hand. I’d have you back here a moment after he drew his last breath. I am not selfless enough to just let you go through the world without me, without making a concerted effort to win you.’

He gestured to her throat. ‘I know, I have not helped my cause. I thought you were working for Regina, trying to destroy my power. Forgive me. I should have trusted in your goodness. I realised my idiocy as soon as you ordered her dead.’

She stared at him. Wide eyed. ‘You thought...’ she broke off, scowling, ‘for _her!_...That is why you threw me out of your castle and have been an absolute _beast_ to me!’ 

He winced. ‘Well, yes. I thought...’

‘Spare me. Rumpelstiltskin. I don’t wish to hear anymore of your thoughts. _Thinking_ , is not your strong suit, it would seem. You said that your power means more to you than I do. Before I go, I want to know why.’

‘Belle!’ He sounded agonised. ‘It’s for my boy, my son. I _need_ my power to find my son.’

She slumped. ‘I see.’

Silence stretched out before them, they sat toget. ‘Very well, Rumpelstiltskin. I will make you a deal. I will be keeping this dagger _but_ I have no intention of using it. You will continue you on as you always have, making deals and trying to find your son. I will keep this safe, but you will not approach me or interfere with my life in any way, not whilst I have it.’

He saw her shoulders straighten as she gathered her courage and pride about her. She stood. ’I bid you farewell, Rumpelstiltskin.’

He reached out a hand to her, in the gesture of a suppliant. ‘Belle, _please._ ’ 

She just looked at him steadily for a moment before her features softened. ‘It’s for the best Rumpelstiltskin. You have already told me that you cannot care for me, you banished me from your presence. You _scorned_ me and made me feel unworthy.' She paused for a moment to wipe away her tears. 'At least this way, I have _some_ small measure of power. Just think! I offered you my heart and if I cannot have yours in return then I will have this. I wish you all the very best in finding your son. I hope...I hope your chosen course brings your happiness and not regret.’

With that, she smiled sadly at him, walking out of his castle and out of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the ending, I will fix it!
> 
>  
> 
> ummm...next week. *cowers*


	4. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is a bit late, real life gets in the way, sometimes!

Belle, once again, did not return to her father’s protection. She wore the dagger in a concealed pouch under her skirts during the daylight hours and when she slept it was always underneath her pillow. She dreamt of Rumpelstiltskin nearly every night. Vivid, fitful dreams that maiden her heart heavy with sorrow. By morning her faced was usually wet with tears.

She found work, the first she had ever been paid for, as a lady-in-waiting for the newly crowned Queen Snow. All it had taken was a word dropped in the correct ear that she knew how Queen Regina had met her end and an audience with her Majesty was granted without hesitation. The two women warmed to each other quickly and when Belle mentioned that she had nowhere to go and no employment, the Queen offered her the position of companion, given that Belle had the air of a gentlewoman and knew the rules of rank and etiquette in minute detail.

A year passed. Belle enjoyed her position, the young Queen tried her best to be a fair and wise ruler and Belle in turn became the woman on whom her majesty relied on at the end of each day to unload her anxieties and receive patient, informed council whilst being readied for bed by gentle hands.

As so often happens at court, the young Queen was soon put under pressure to marry. The kingdom needed an heir and a suitable consort was sought. It was a matter of great debate for the councilmen and wise elders, the man chosen must be well born, a great leader and powerful enough to be worthy but not so powerful that his own lands would take precedence over her Majesty’s affairs. Snow White, whilst finding the subject distasteful, knew her duty and informed her council that she would, of course, do what was right by her kingdom. Being Queen, she told Belle, was not mere pretty frocks and jewels-- sometimes sacrifice must be made and in her case, that sacrifice was losing the chance to love where she chose.

Belle, thinking ruefully that she had not exactly chosen where to love either, smiled and softly asked the Queen which nightgown she would prefer to wear that night.

The unfortunate upshot of the search for a husband was that it reached the ears of a certain Sir Guy of Gisbourne, that the fairest woman in the land was requiring a ruler to sit beside her royal throne. He was a greedy man and would grasp at any chance of power. The idea that his wife would rule the land and he would rule _her_ , rather appealed to him and he set about presenting himself as a suitable candidate.

It may have been his lack of discretion at leering at her lady in waiting, whilst paying pretty court to Queen Snow that caused his suit to be dismissed, but he did not take rejection well and retired from the palace promising a war that would make her majesty beg for his hand on her knees.

It was not an idle threat. Battle after bloody battle was fought. No one could tell where Sir Guy was getting his troops from, but his attack seemed relentless. In a but wrenching? twist of de-ja-vu for Belle the council called for Rumpelstiltskin, before Belle could beg them not to.

He appeared, of course. The scent of desperation must have reached even his nostrils. Belle fled the room before his shocked eyes, relieved to know that he could not follow her.

It ought not have surprised her that some hours later, Royal guards came to her room to take her before the sorrowful Queen and her advisors.

‘My Lady Belle. A bargain has been struck with the Dark One, in exchange for the safety of our fair Kingdom. Our people’s wellbeing will be assured if we return to Rumpelstiltskin, what was taken from him.’ Snow White, who would gladly give up the chances of her own happiness for the wellbeing of her kingdom, did not baulk at having to sacrifice her dearest friends for the same, however much she regretted it necessity. It was all in the line of _duty_ after all.

Belle fought. Of course she did, but the soldiers wasted no time in stripping her of her dress and wresting the dagger from its bindings about her leg.

‘And I? Your Majesty?’ she spat, her arms held fast by the men. ‘What of my safety? This is the second time it has been jeopardized for the sake of a kingdom, I wonder, if I live through this, whether I might try for a third?’

Rumpelstiltskin, having appeared beside her the moment the blade was wrested from her, put a hand on her shoulder. Belle saw, in the corner of herself eye, that his teeth were bared in a snarl. The guards fell back from her, one of them offering the Dark One the dagger, handle first, at a tearful nod from Snow.

Belle rounded on him, chin in the air and by no means willing go meekly. ‘Well, sir? What now? Am I to receive death at your hands as you promised me in the woods? Will you get on with it at least, or shall you have one of these men do it for you? It might save you the trouble if you don't care to dirty your hands.’ She knew that her terror must be obvious in her white cheeks, in her trembling fingers, she could not hope to disguise _that_ much with derision and burst into overwrought tears.

Rumpelstiltskin regarded her gravely. He was arrayed in gold brocade-- a richly clad player ready to perform for an audience. If only the blood pounding in her head was from mere anger. How simple would it be to _just_ be furious with him. 

He did not respond to her frightened words, merely extending an arm to her and saying ‘Will you come home with me, Belle?’ His voice was low and gentle. She could almost forget that he had ever held her by the throat and promised a slow, agonizing death or that he hadn’t imprisoned her in a dank cell. 

She eyed him in surprise and sniffed. ‘I thank you, no. I am quite happy here I believe. Not even the lure of emptying your chamber pots can tempt me away.’ She groped for her handkerchief and defiantly blew her nose.

A gleam stole into his eyes for a moment. ‘I’d not let you near them, lady. You chipped the last one.’ He dropped his arm, seeing that she wouldn’t take it. ‘You can’t stay here, I’m afraid.’ he dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘The councilmen aren’t very pleased with you, apparently you’ve been tainted by association with my humble self.’ He hadn’t lost any of his flair for a thoroughly nasty tone of voice, his mouth was a viscious twist but his eyes were warm as they searched her face. ‘ _Please_ come home with me, Belle.’

‘You’d take me back with you regardless.’ She said stiffly, but there was no heat in it-- not when his eyes held such tenderness.

He noted it and looked more cheerful. ‘Probably.’ He raised his hand again and ghosted a finger across her cheek. ‘I won’t hurt you. You are quite...entirely, safe with me.’ 

The court, it's guilt-stricken Queen and courtiers faded to nothing as his magic swirled around the two of them and in a moment, she stood in the circle of his arms in the great hall of a familiar castle. 

She raised her hands to his chest, pushing gently at his chest. His coat was warm under her hands and he released her immediately. He stood awkwardly for a moment or two, as if fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her again. She understood, her own body was objecting to their removal, his embrace felt like home. Belle wondered if the touch of his skin on her neck might feel pleasant when he wasn’t in a murderous rage.

‘Rumpelstiltskin. Did you find your son?’

He was silent for a little while, and she wondered if he would not answer her. There was great sadness in his face when he finally spoke.‘Yes. I know where he is, but I cannot go there. It is a land without magic, forever barred to the likes of me. I have seen him though. I created a mirror. He is happy enough I believe, he has a new family now--is about to become a grandfather, of all things. I could not take him from that. I wonder why I ever thought I could have. I’ve lived so many lifetimes, my Belle, but it only occurs to me that I have not learnt much at all from my lengthy time here. I cannot change the past. It is a great profound truth, I believe. What is done, cannot be undone. I cannot rectify my idiocy in losing Bae, nor can I alter my offences against you however much I bitterly regret them.’

Belle digested this.

‘You _were_ abominable.’

‘I am sorry.’

She sighed. ‘Yes. I know. It is well enough.’ She made an expansive gesture with her hand. ‘I did not behave very well either.’

To her surprise, he smiled. ‘You were utterly magnificent.’ he said with admiration.

She laughed in surprise. ‘Rumpelstilskin! I would say that you lie, except I know you do not.’ She sobered. The smile vanishing from her mouth.

‘Will you tell me the truth, Belle? Can you love a monster?’ His gaze was unwavering on her face.

‘I _could_.’ She said, slowly. ‘But I will not love where I am not loved. I do have _some_ pride, Rumpelstilskin.’

‘Yes.’ he smiled, and ruefully rubbed his head-- where she had smashed porcelain over it. ‘I have encountered it.’ He stepped closer to her and slipped an arm about her waist. ‘Have you the will to chose when you shall and shan’t love then? I have not. I could no sooner tell my heart that it must not love you and have it obey me, than I could reorder the passage of time.’

She stared at him. Blue eyes wide and questioning. ‘I don’t...I don’t understand. You said that you didn’t _want_ me, that your power meant more to you than I did!’

‘Oh, Belle!’ He shook his head. ‘So that poisonous dart struck home, did it? Is that why I was met in the woods by a disdainful shrew instead of my own sweet tempered beauty?’

‘But you said..!’

He made an abortive sweep with his hand and placed a finger on her lips. ‘The curse was _breaking_ , dearie. It would not have done so if our love was unrequited, if your love for me was not equal to mine for you.’

‘ _What?!’_

Her expression of astonishment must have proved too much temptation to the man holding her, because he seized her and frantically pressed his mouth to hers.

He tasted of clove and a sweet, light wine. After a stunned moment she discarded the option of carefully talking and thinking things through and simply revelled in the joy of kissing him back.

–––

Some considerable time later, the pair sat on the bottom step in the entrance hall, side by side. Belle rested her head on the shoulder of a very different looking Rumpelstiltskin.

‘I am sorry I hid your dagger. It was petty.’

The shoulder shook. ‘It was astounding. You held in your pretty hands, the means to command the greatest power imaginable and you put it in the back of a _bread_ oven! Unbelievable.’

‘Well, I didn’t want to _steal_ it. I was trying to annoy you.’

He kissed the top of her dark head. ‘I’d say you succeeded,’ he said grimly. ‘I don’t remember ever being quite that angry before. I’m sorry I accused you of conspiring against me. I should have known better. My temper leapt to conclusions that my cowardly head was only to happy to believe. I’m sorry I frightened you.’

She raised her face to kiss him again. ‘You were provoked, Rumpelstiltskin. In fairness, I knocked you out the next morning. Does that make us even?’ She murmured kisses against his jaw.

–––

Later still, having progressed as far as the winged chair by the dining room fireplace, Belle asked. ‘Shall you miss your magic, love?’

‘It’s not gone altogether, dearie. Just weaker. The raw power of the Dark One is destroyed of course, which I do not regret, but my body knows how to pull the magic to me now. It cannot be forgotten. In time, with practice, my power may even expand. In the meantime, dearie, you will just have to make do with a weaker sorcerer as your husband.’ He produced a ring.

Belle tearfully slipped it on her finger. ‘But a much stronger man, I think.’ She smiled up at him, a whole world of happiness shining from her eyes. 

He pulled her further into his embrace and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. ‘Oh, I do love you Belle.’ He murmured into her hair. 

Belle snuggled into his shoulder and closed her eyes, quite content with how _well_ it had all turned out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it! Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I have a few ideas for more rumbelle stories to write, but not sure which order to do them in. I'll put up general overviews on my tumblr page...if any body has a preference or opinion, it would be SO lovely to hear it. :-)

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments! I don't even mind it you just leave me a smiley face to convey that you read it and didn't completely hate it. Anything.
> 
> If you read it and _did_ hate it...don't tell me. Your silence is appreciated. ; )


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